This large room is large. The bulkheads are grey, like the rest of the ship, though the rubberized floor is a warm tan. A variety of blue mats, of varying thickness, are available to be pulled out for various purposes, though a huge mat in the back stays out to serve as as a sparring mat. A large red circle is taped down to mark the the boundaries of the ring.

Racks of free weights are bolted to the wall, and a few are bolted to the floor against the wall. Typical Nautilus style weight machines are available for use, as is a long bank of treadmills, a few step machines, and a couple of rowers. A few shelves of fresh folded white towels occupies a wall by the hatch, with a couple of bins below for used dirties. They are emptied often and washed. Thank your laundry personnel!

-=[ Condition Level: 3 - All Clear ]=---------

One of the few rooms that Damon is allowed to be in happens to be the Gym. Since it happens to be more useful, of course, than spending time in the mess or the laundry, Damon's back to working out. There's no telling how long he's been in the room, but he's known to spend hours in there. Now, he stands at a set of free weights, pumping away at rotations with heavy barbells.

One of the few rooms that Damon is allowed to be in happens to be the Gym. Since it happens to be more useful, of course, than spending time in the mess or the laundry, Damon's back to working out. There's no telling how long he's been in the room, but he's known to spend hours in there. Now, he stands at a set of free weights, pumping away at rotations with heavy barbells.

A duffle slung over his shoulder, Ashe enters into the gym with a tired expression. Tossing the bag over towards a nearby bench the young Marine begins stretching as his eyes wander over the gym area, falling on the various people there. As he hears the sounds of barbells clanking, he glances in that direction and offers a nod towards Damon before resuming the stretching.

It must be Marine hour in the gym today…Damon, Ashe, and then Cinder. The hatch swings open and she strides in, wearing the standard fleet sweats. She's got a towel over her shoulder and a small bottle of water. Her hair's tied back, her makeup is light, and she aggressively declares 'I'm here to workout!' with her outfit. "Hey hey!" she exclaims to greet Damon and Ashe, forgoing the weights, all sweaty and icky, to make her way to the stair climber, her machine of choice.

In sweats as well, the long dreadlocks that belong to Damon raise slightly at the sound of newcomers. The quiet man, as always, gives a few seconds of observation before he responds. "Hey." He says back to them, issuing an upward nod in the general direction that they can fight over for ownership later. Lowering his brows through a final rep, the wall of jailhouse muscle lowers the barbell and moves it back to the rack. "How you two been?"

"Sick of the ship." Ashe retorts as he heads himself over to a body bag, taping up his hands as he goes. "Sick of guard duty." A slight smile touches his lips, really more of a smirk, "Sick of boredom." He glances at the arrival of Cinder, offering a nod of greeting and pausing. "Have I really been working that hard that I barely recognize y'all?"

"Well…maybe. Weird schedules'll do that. I don't think I've seen either of you in a long while!" Cinder opines, laying her towel over the grips of the stair climber and getting up onto the pedals with the slight hissing of the cylinders as the machine settles to the neutral position. She taps on the control pad there, elected today for a fat-burning up-and-down intensity workout rather than the flat cardio workout. "You been stuck on guard duty, huh? I think I'm just now getting used to wandering this ship from stem to stern on patrol every night."

"Speak for yourselves. When I'm not on duty I get the gym, the mess, the head, and the laundry if I'm not sitting in my bunks." Damon replies, lighting a cigarette and taking a break. Lowering himself to sit on the bench press, he reaches for a canteen of water and slowly starts to open it. "I'm trying to find out if I can get cleared to head on this leave. I was told something about sanctioning. I might need some sort of babysitter down there to make sure I don't kill everyone."

"I'd rather if you didn't. We're having enough issues as is." Ashe pauses after having delivered a few blows to the body bag, glancing at the others. "Have you all noticed it? That folks seem to sort of look at us like just because Sunshine went batshit crazy that we all are going to?" Well, he looks at Damon briefly, that's a given he's crazy but then he directs his gaze at Cinder.

Cinder's pistoning up and down on the stair climber, the cylinders there hissing and humming along as the machine offers the right sort of resistance and all that. "I don't think about that too much. I just do my frakkin' job. But I guess since I'm still pretty new here, I'm sort of the odd one out." Of course, it doesn't bear repeating that Sunshine, a vet, blonde, all that and Cinder, green, and also a blonde have certain potentially-suspicious similarities. The ponytail on the back of her head bobs up and down as she climbs, and while she nods her head while talking. Just a few minutes into the session, and her forehead and face are already a bit shiny with sweat.

"To think I was on the line next to her not too long ago." Damon replies, raising his head from his cigarette to look at Ashe. Nodding softly, he sways his gaze towards Cinder. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he scratches his chest over his tank tops for a second before exhaling a small cloud of smoke. Then, the bough breaks. "They're looking at us not because they're afraid we're going to go batshit. They're looking at us because we're sharing bunks and they're afraid that Jules didn't go batshit."

Ashe pauses then nods at Damon in agreement, "Yeah, I can see that. Iunno. Truth be told, I always thought I'd be the one to snap y'know? Finally lose it and pimp hand a pilot or something then get tossed in the brig." A few more heavy blows towards the body bag then he sighs, "Oh well. Life keeps going right? You two settlin' in ok with y'know, all of it?"

"I'm doing…alright, I guess. Haven't gotten my ass bitched out too bad yet, so I figure that's good. A lot of Yessirs and Yesma'ams and all that, keeping out of trouble. Just trying to do my best to go from living as civillian to be taken seriously," Cinder comments. "Lot harder than you'd think, especially with this Sunshine thing. People look at me like I have three heads sometimes." Of course, with the way that tanktop fits…

"I've faced extinction before. I'm fine." Damon says with a quiet air of calm finality. The ex-convict has suffered being on Scorpia whem the bombs dropped, surviving the wilderness, and two stints on death row and per the rumor mill everyone knows these facts. To the ex-con's credit, he only notices a few bounces coming from Cinder's direction as he shifts his gaze between the two of them. "When I was in the brig, that's when the sickbay got shot up. Sunshine I think was having personal issues, but not with Sheridan. So when she snapped, she went for the head of the fleet?" Damon throws it out there, starting the conspiracy theories. "There's somethin' not right goin on here. The sooner we admit that and start keeping our eyes open the better off we'll be."

"I've known Sunshine.. a hell of a long time." Ashe says as he punches the body bag. "At least since War Day. I was with her the first time the Cylons boarded this ship. She watched the Marine CO get his face blown off all over her." A series of punches hits the bag, harder with each one as Ashe seems to be talking to it rather than the other two. "Far as I know, no one besides myself has seen more live action than Sunshine. She snaps? It either makes a lot of sense, or none at all."

For her part, Cinder just stays quiet. Only the whirring and hissing of the machine are heard from her direction. She hardly knows the full story behind these folks, and so she's not going to pretend she does. Everything she does know sort of comes second-hand as well, so the accuracy isn't guaranteed. The mention of the CO's face getting blown off…well, that's fairly gruesome, but she has a good idea of who Ashe is talking about.

Turning in his seat so that he can keep an eye on the two of them, Damon brings the canteen of water to his lips. Drinking, he lets a silence settle in that's narrated to the sounds of Cinder's stair machine and the dull packing sounds of Ashe's fists against the heavy bag. Capping the canteen and twisting it shut, Damon sets it beside him and speaks through the lazy haze of cigarette smoke rising from his knuckles. "From what I understand, humans started killing eachother on the Kharon after I came back up with you guys from Scorpia." Damon says, watching their faces for reactions on his theory. "What if it's not sabotage?"

Turning in his seat so that he can keep an eye on the two of them, Damon brings the canteen of water to his lips. Drinking, he lets a silence settle in that's narrated to the sounds of Cinder's stair machine and the dull packing sounds of Ashe's fists against the heavy bag. Capping the canteen and twisting it shut, Damon sets it beside him and speaks through the lazy haze of cigarette smoke rising from his knuckles. "From what I understand, humans started killing eachother on the Kharon after I came back up with you guys from Scorpia." Damon says, watching their faces for reactions on his theory. "What if it's sabotage?"

"Iunno, anyone who is crammed into a ship might start causing problems. You think Jules was set up?" Ashe asks towards Damon shaking his head, "Naw, I don't buy it. I love the kid, but she did it."

"It'd be kinda hard when the S2 and the CAG caught her with the explosives and all in hand. I got there in time to see that much at least." Cinder was indeed, the one to cuff and take Jules to the brig. "But…sabotage you think?" she says, turning to look at Damon with some concern on her face; her nose is a little scrunched up, her lips pulled back some as she tries to parlay the concern with the effort of the exercise. The neck of her tank is starting to get a little wet-looking as well. "You think some surviviors here on the ship are trying to wipe us off the frakkin' map?"

"No, Swift." Damon says, quietly shaking his head from left to right. His dreadlocks sway across his shoulders as he does so. "I'm not suggesting that she was set up." Damon adds, looking to Cinder. Watching her face, he slowly nods his head. "You got it, girl." Rising, Damon keeps a close look on both of their faces. It's the same half trusting look he gives everyone. "If people aren't dying because someone goes insane, then they're dying on purpose. Why Sheridan? Why pilots in sickbay? Why right after Scorpia?" He brings his cigarette to his lips. The cherry on the end of it flares as he brings in a lungfull of smoke. "We're talkin about a short, cheerleader type that all of the sudden stole bombs from munitions and detonated them at CIC." He turns his head to Ashe. "You and her were friends. Did she ever have any business up there? Why there?"

Ashe shakes his head and stops, leaning against the bag. "So let me get this straight. You think that there's what, people who want to finish us off? Why? What's the motivation behind it?" He looks from Damon to Cinder, lifting an eyebrow in questioning.

"Well…going in circles…what if they're like, crazy, but they don't know it. What if…" she pauses a second, letting the stair pedals on the machine sink back down to the bottom-the computer on the machine starts to beep at her angrily as she stops her workout momentarily-as she takes her towel and wipes her face down, taking a squirt of water from the bottle in the machine's holder. "What if they're so nuts, or so pissed or dishearted about all that's happened that they just…I dunno. Think they're doing us a favor or something? Like, ending the misery that everyone must share with them?"

"It's possible." Damon says, looking to Cinder first. His cold, grey eyes focus on her face as he goes silent. Reading her features, he ashes his cigarette and then looks to Swift. A deep tension fills the gym as he takes a moment to choose his words before responding. "I'm saying that after Sickbay, CIC, the CO all being the target of these out of nowhere random attacks by people with no visible insanity, we could be cutting our own throats by not asking these questions." Damon replies, folding his arms across his muscular chest. "Every colony attacked within minutes, entire defense networks bypassed. The frakkin' colonies had no defense to this. We still don't know why the Cylons want us dead." He lifts an eyebrow. "So how can we be so sure that they don't have allies?"

"And assuming your fight." Ashe states glancing over his shoulder. "Then what? Because by your own logic, it would stand to reason that after Scorpia, this all started happenign. And didn't you come on board at Scorpia?" There's no real accusation in Ashe's tone, merely amusement. "Or you Cinder?"

"Different story in my case. I was on Elpis, colony-hopping for business when shit went south. I'm here to help godsdamnit, not blow people up. I'm a frakkin' MP!" Cinder manages to look hurt toward Ashe and he accusatory (or at least, perceived accusatory) stare. With the machine still beeping, she slaps a finger down on the control pad, huffing a little. "Oh shush!" she cries out. Standing on the machine, motionless, she just wipes her face and neck off with the towel, looking at Ashe and Damon. "I hope you're not saying Damon or I are responsible for this shit?"

"I came up here knowing I might get airlocked." Damon smiles quietly like a drug dealer on a bench at the park. "I was in the brig when sickbay was shot up and it'd take a world of espionage just to get my ass laid without everyone knowing about it." Damon says, presenting a line of thinking to clear him from the list. "Frak, I could be airlocked for saying this shit alone but…what if I'm right, Swift? Brand? What if I'm right?" He pauses, taking another drag from the cigarette before he drops it, crushing it under his boot. "All I'm saying is, don't tell anyone about this idea and keep your frakking eyes open. If I wind up suddenly having committed suicide which is some weak bullshit I would never go for, well then you two got problems…"

Ashe smirks a bit at Cinder and shakes his head, "No, actually I trust you two pretty damn decently. You didn't ahve to come here. But, if we start throwing around suspicions, we're in trouble." He nods then towads Damon, "If I go missing? Run."

"If I go missing…might just be because I got lost. Don't do anything for a while, but then…I dunno. Not really something I want to think about a lot, ok?" This line of thinking is a little bit more…grim than Cinder would really like to admit, especially since she came down here just to work out and get some mindless physical exercise for a bit. At least she made it this far in the conversation in terms of following along…a few months ago, she'd have been totally lost, not a clue as to what sort of deeper stuff these two are insinuating. "Are we…I mean, can I go back to working out now?" she asks, looking between Ashe and Damon; it's pretty evident by her expression that she really doesn't want to continue thinking like this.

"Most of the night I don't sleep. I'll watch your backs." Damon says, nodding quietly to them before turning back to the bar bells. Gripping one, he tests the weight and turns his gaze away from them to check the poundage listed. "Then again…" He trails off, a bit of humor to his voice. "…I could get lynched by some frak-ass that still thinks I killed that woman and her baby."

"Well…if I do my job right, that won't happen," Cinder says with a faint smile over in Damon's direction. Once again, she taps on the control panel and the machine springs back into life. With the conversation dying down, the sounds of the machine, the grunting of weight-lifting, the panting of fat-burning stair climbing, and the normal groans and creaks of a space vessel are the only sounds filling the gym.